


War 1

by LadyAshlaLordBogen



Series: Estel Elrondiel [29]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Antebellum - Freeform, F/F, Gen, Politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-03 08:45:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15815454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyAshlaLordBogen/pseuds/LadyAshlaLordBogen
Summary: War was coming, that much was certain.  Anariel and Mitherial were not looking forward to the games they would have to play in order to ensure that their people would survive the conflict.





	1. Worrywarts and Traveling Companions

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of the War arc...don't really know where it's going to fit in right now, so I'm tentatively going to say that Estel is 26 in this one.

War was stirring.  Estel could feel it in the air.  The song of the earth was a string of dissonant voices.  She was returning to Gondor for the first time in several years, the last time being when she shipped out for Ithilien.  She was on the road, near the Gap of Rohan.  The past decade had been kind to her.  She had married her love, Mitherial, when they were 25 and much to their surprise, were able to form a marriage bond.  It was uncommon for any human to be able to establish any sort of kinship bond, so Mirial _had_ to have significant amounts of elvish ancestry. 

“Ana?” Speaking of beautiful Gondorians, her wife galloped towards her, after riding ahead to make sure the road was clear of danger.

“What’s up, babe?”

“All clear ahead.  I think that we’re okay to ride through the night, if Adûninzil (A. West-Flower) and Arphazêl (A. Royal Princess) have the stamina to go all the way through.  Do you want to go through Rohan?”

“I don’t want to go any further south than we already have.  It’s risky.”

“I know, lover.  So, through Rohan and into Gondor?”

“That’s what I was thinking.  Do you have any idea as to why your father would summon you?”

“It wasn’t Father who summoned me, just a standard Council summons.  It concerns me that he didn’t call for me personally, but we’ll find out later.  I never officially gave up my place in the succession.  That could be it.  I also wonder if they were able to translate your name.  Hopefully it’s not…”

“Both are distinct possibilities, and both can potentially raise alarm bells with the Council, if not the Steward.  I suppose we’ll find out.  And I doubt Ecthelion would have died from natural causes at this point.  He’s barely 50.”

Mirial hummed in agreement.  “I hope you’re right.  What _is_ the translation of your name?”

Estel changed the subject at Míriel’s cue.   She wouldn’t want to think about either of her fathers dying either.  “Ana-gift, aran-king, and iel-daughter.  A gift from the line of Kings.  I think its pretentious, so I don’t like to use it.”

“I can’t blame you.  It presumes much, and it’s _not_ subtle in the least.  Hopefully, it ends up being nothing, and we can go home without raising much fuss.”

“That’s what I hope too, but I have the worst feeling that something is going to happen that we can’t control and then we’ll have to deal with the consequences.”

“I hope you’re wrong, but I know you’re probably correct.  It could be anything though.  I just don’t like not knowing.”

“I don’t either, love.  The sooner we get there, the sooner we can go home.  Shall we?”

“We shall.”

The pair urged their mares to go faster, and they rode through the night, only resting when their horses needed it.  At that pace, they were able to pass through the gates of Minas Tirith within a week.  They could have flown to the city, but, by stopping in Rohan, they were able to meet up with most of their old unit before stepping into the lion’s den.  The back up would be appreciated.  Word was passed to Estel’s cousins, the Dunedain, and they mobilized two units to act as guards for their Chieftainess. 

By the time they thundered through the gates of the White City, the entirety of CG Purple was riding in parade formation.  The assembled squad was an intimidating sight to behold, most of this squad were famous in their own right, and great warriors besides.  Purple’s first five-year was used to teach hit and run tactics at the academy.  They were the next generation of leaders and were destined for great deeds.  Halbarad and Maelann were happily leading their detachments of Rangers, judging by the slightly manic smiles that were on their faces, only noticeable to those who knew them.

The group was waved through the gates of the city without ceremony and made their way towards the citadel, the mood becoming more and more tense as the nerve center of Gondor grew larger and larger in their field of vision. 

Estel eventually joked over their private comms line, “Relax guys.  It’s not like this could change the fate of the world.”  The group chuckled, and the nervous tension dissipated.  The squad had kept up their training and camaraderie over the years.  The bonds that were formed during basic training and long patrols were nigh impossible to sever.  Honestly, most of the squads that they had graduated with had done the same and were unofficially battle-ready and could assemble within a few days of being called.  The Númenorians were Rangers, so they patrolled the North on a regular basis and drilled together.  War games between the Eldar and the Dunedain were a regular occurrence.   The group was met at the entrance to the Tower by Gondor’s Council dressed in mourning blacks.  Estel and Mirial exchanged looks.  That was _not_ good.  Where was Ecthelion? 


	2. Ill Tidings

The first councilor stepped forward,

“My Lady Mitherial Ecthelioniel of the House of Hurin, Lady Steward of Gondor, welcome home.  You and your wife are most welcome after this recent development.  Lady Anâriel Arathorniel of the House of Tar-Minyatur, High Queen-in-waiting of Reunited Gondor and Arnor, you are most welcome as our Lady Steward’s wife.”

“Thank you for your welcome, First Lord of the Council.  I am grieved to hear of my father’s death, and I take this duty with a heavy heart.  I recognized and accepted my wife, the High Queen, into our city as is her birthright when we were fifteen, and she has proven herself to me time and time again.  I would not have married her if there were secrets between us.” Mirial’s voice had changed, taking an authoritative tone that was rarely heard outside of the battlefield.  There was no discernible emotion in her voice, which was impressive considering she wasn’t aware of her father’s death-suspected, yes, but she didn’t _know_.  She would be a good steward for the people.  Not so much for the Council.  She was even more liberal than her father and had already decided that she would accept the Númenorians as equals and create a zero-tolerance policy towards discrimination against anyone no matter race, gender, origins, or blood status. 

The Eldar had a good system when it came to discrimination now, in large part due to the return of many of the ancient heroes.  It was illegal to discriminate against anyone based on origin, gender, beliefs, or familial disputes, and it was strictly enforced.  It probably helped that the Noldoran was chomping at the bit to pass that law through after he found out that Estel was still getting harassed for being half-Edain and half-Eldar.  She hadn’t told any of her family about it, but Glorfindel managed to walk in on some Wood-elves calling Estel a “low-born daughter of a slut’s line whose ancestors had likely slept with humans because they didn’t have any pigs, dogs, or horses, which would have been preferable to a _human_ ” and speculating if all of her ancestors were rapists and thieves.  Glorfindel was furious, to say the least.  He recorded everything that he heard, as thankfully he had been speaking with one of his subordinates over comms when he came across them.  The recording found its way into the hands of the White Council, who quickly drew Thranduil Orophorion into the discussion, and by the time the conversation died down, there was a solid plan in place to pitch the idea to their various councils.  The white council consisted of representatives from all of the Elven Realms, but sometimes the Lords would send a proxy in their place, or cede their vote to another member.  Estel had been loaned out to the Greenwood and the council there, easily the most anti-human was swayed to passing the law after interacting with Estel and listening to some of her stories.  She had been raised to be a princess of the Noldor, her parents and siblings having no desire to lose her to the Edain.  She was well-spoken, intelligent, and most of all, fluent in several languages.  That she managed to soften the heart of Legolas Greenleaf, the youngest Prince of the Greenwood, who had been horribly mistreated by men, undoubtedly helped in creating a lasting impression.  Prince Legolas and Arwen had recently been married as a result of the changes that occurred.  Hopefully, it would quiet some of the more extreme anti-human and anti-Peredhil sentiment.


	3. Pre-game Planing

After all the pleasantries had been seen to, the squads retreated to a safe house that the Gondorian natives had set up.  It was easy enough to disappear in a city if you knew what you were doing.  Considering some of their backgrounds, and the amount of time that they had spent in hostile lands, Purple had become experts in hiding in plain sight very quickly.  It had been a matter of survival.  The rest of the night was spent making phone calls and creating a plan to go forward with.  A very long and sleepless night later saw all of them drinking coffee-tea for Estel and the other Númenorians- and attempting to look impervious, collected and sophisticated.  They met a contingent from the wise, led by Lord Elrond himself, with representatives from every member: Legolas of the Greenwood, Makalaurë of Himring, Haldir of Lothlórien, Elrond of Imladris, and Círdan of the Havens who had been invited by the council with the intent of them verifying that Estel was not of the line of kings.  The Gondorian Council didn’t want Mitherial to be married, and especially not to another _woman_.  If Mitherial were unmarried, the Council would be able to choose a husband for Mitherial and have the husband oversee the Realm.  It was a law that Ecthelion had been trying to overturn right before he died.  Estel had taken Cody aside at one point and asked him to assemble a team and investigate the death.  She had also requested Quinn to make sure that they had people they trusted in crucial positions.  They had pulled people in as needed and were working in the background, so were unavailable the next day.  They had taken over those tasks, so the politics and tactics teams could plan their strategy.  This team consisted of Estel, Mitherial, Heimir (whose father was King of Dale), Hippolyte and Raashid (brilliant tacticians), and Alan (whose father was the current Mayor of Bree).  They had been joined by the Heirs of the Noble Houses of Númenor, Maelann foremost amongst them.  Heimir and Alan were both second sons, so they had the same training and none of the expectations as their elder siblings.  Hippolyte and Raashid were both children of high-ranking officers, so they had ample opportunity to learn how to plan counterattacks.  It was unfortunate for the council that they were to be proven wrong by the Eldar.  The Wise did not appreciate being _handled_ , or even better, manipulated into doing something that they knew was wrong or inadvisable.  They would be _happy_ to detail their little Estel’s heritage.  She was related to all the members of the Council; Celeborn, Galadriel, Maglor, and Maedhros were her grandparents, Haldir was her uncle through Celebrian’s marriage, Elrond was her father, Thranduil was Arwen’s law-father and her cousin, Círdan was another cousin, and the Maiar were related to her through Melian.  They were all proud of her accomplishments and trusted her much more than the Councils of the Human Realms.  Estel knew that she would need their support to deal with the suspicions of the Council that she was lying.  They undoubtedly would make the accusations.  Estel was wearing a dress, the long white and blue gradient accentuating her figure and making her look more imposing.  Míriel, on the other hand, wore a knee-length off-the-shoulder blue dress with golden lace sleeves, blue and silver being the colors of the House of Tar-Minyatur and gold and white being the colors of the House of Hurin.  There were hidden messages in the clothes that all the White Council representatives, Míriel and Estel were wearing.  Míriel was wearing blue to emphasize her allegiance to the Line of Kings and Estel wore white to underline her marriage into the House of Stewards. Neither of them wore mourning colors because they were never officially informed of Ecthelion’s death.  Haldir was wearing gray, Elrond blue, Makalaurë red, Círdan white, and Legolas green.  All of those colors had been associated with both the Realms they represented and with the Line of Kings.  They could claim kinship with all of the tribes of the Eldar.  Soon enough, the assorted dignitaries were making small talk. 


	4. Let the Games Begin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Politics. It's always about the politics.

The Council would be starting shortly, but until then, people were milling around making small talk.  Estel had learned to despise events like these as the Noldoran’s daughter.  They were long, tedious, and ultimately a complete waste of time.  The call to order soon came, and the games truly began. 

“Welcome everyone to the Tower of Ecthelion.  We are all saddened by the events that have led to the necessity of these proceedings.  I am First Councilor Logan Whiteoak.  We are gathered here today to confirm the suitability of the current Heir to the Steward of Gondor and to confirm the necessity of the Steward.  We have representatives from the White Council and the various Realms of Man.  The candidate to assume the Stewardship, Mitherial, and her wife, the presumed heir of Isildur, Anariel, are here as well.  The events of this meeting will be historical, and I thank you all for being here.”

“I am Hilde Oberfell of the Anduin Valley.  As my fellow councilor said, welcome to Minas Tirith.  Know that if you are here under false pretense, you will be found out and disciplined accordingly.  I do hope that you are here for a truthful reason, but if you are not, woe betide you.”  The good councilor was looking directly at Estel as she spoke.  Estel smiled a poison-sweet smirk in return.  Estel may hate to play the game, but she’s quite good at it. It was a side effect of being the daughter of a politician and the sister of a diplomat.    

Makalaure spoke next.  Normally it would have been Elerondo, but the representatives of the Wise had agreed that if the Council of Gondor knew of Estel’s adoption, Elrond could be perceived as biased.  Outside of the Eldar, Makalaure was not well known anymore.  The links between Makalaure and Estel were even more obscure.  The humans may not have even recognized the links as legitimate because they did not recognize fostering as a legal process and did not accept adoption as a legal kinship. 

“Thank you for hosting this summit, lords of Gondor.  I am Makalaure of Himring, one of the representatives of the White Council.  With me are representatives from all of the Elven Realms.  We all hope that these proceedings will be fruitful and the conclusions of this summit satisfying to all present.  I would also hope that inconvenient truths that may be uncovered by this Council will be acknowledged and acted upon.”  Estel projected a raised eyebrow to her grandfather.

“Yes, granddaughter, I must make a point of this.  I can get away with being so blunt because of my age and experience.  And you are worth angering our allies, so stop being insecure and let us protect you.”  Makalaure used osanwe to insist upon his point.  As an elf born under the light of the Trees, he was quite powerful.  When his father would go to Aule’s forges, he would bring Makalaure and his brothers with him.  While his brothers would sit and listen to Lord Aule, and Tyelkormo would sneak off to find Lord Oromë, Makalaure would wander around and find Lady Yavanna, who would talk to him about her domain, the earth and all green things, and teach him about how to sense the health of the earth and to heal it.  Having any sort of tutelage by a Vala hints that the Elda is quite strong.

Estel stopped going down the tangent she was on and nodded minutely to her grandfather to acknowledge that she had heard him. 

“I am Anariel Arathorniel, sometimes called Araniel.  I married Mitherial Ecthelioniel last year in a ceremony in the Elven Realms.  I am also Chieftainess of the Northern Rangers, and the last direct descendant of the House of Tar-Minyatur.  I hope that this Council is impartial and just, and that the events of these proceedings are fruitful.  No matter the outcome, I hope that the decisions made here are the best possible outcomes for the people of Gondor and Arnor.  The proceedings that occur here will have far-reaching consequences and will reverberate throughout the Realms.”

“And finally, I am Mitherial Ecthelioniel, current Heir to the Steward of Gondor.  I echo my wife’s sentiments of hopes for impartiality and justice.  No matter our personal priorities, I hope that our decisions made here today will benefit the Realms of Men as a whole, rather than just the few.  I hope that these proceedings will be productive, and we will be able to benefit our people with our discussions.  Now, First Lord, where is my father?”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Council meets. Machinations are realized.

“My lady, I regret to inform you that your father has passed beyond the Halls of Mandos.  He died of natural causes.  His death has been confirmed by the House of Hurin’s personal healers.  You are the Steward of Gondor.”

“Lady Anariel, I recognized you as the daughter of the line of Kings 11 years ago.  Do you have proofs of your heritage, for the record, that you can provide for the Council?”

Before Estel could open her mouth to respond to Mirial, Elrond opened a book that looked ancient.  “My lady Steward, I was the attending healer for Lady Anariel’s birth.  Her biological mother, Gilraen, and her biological father, Arathorn, were both directly descended from Tar-Miriel through the lines of Isildur and Anarion respectively.  This is the book of lineage that traces the line of Finwe, first King of the Deep Elves.  Will you need further proofs, or is this enough?”  He tactfully didn’t mention that as Prince Consort to the Noldoran, he could override the decisions of the Gondorian Council without protest from any of the Realms.  The joys of unconditional surrender and not having a monarch to talk with other rulers as equals.  No King of the time would recognize the Steward as a ruler in his own right. 

The issue came to a head when Rohan refused to sign a treaty without a King’s signature, so Gondor appealed to the White Council.  Imladris took over the international relations of Gondor, and left them to their domestic affairs-with some restrictions.  Tensions started soon after that, but relations had remained relatively cordial until a Steward decided to rebel against the restrictions in place.  The treaties were still being contested to this day, but with Estel potentially coming into power, hopefully relations would improve.  It was unlikely, but hope springs eternal, and Estel always wanted to believe the best of everyone she met.  That’s not to say that she was naïve, but growing up with elves made her the most interesting mix of optimistic and pragmatic.  The Council was quick to agree after seeing the relevant pages.  It was probably a mix of nervousness and excitement.  That’s not to say that they would trust Estel or accept her as their Queen, but they would be able to negotiate as equals now. 

“Anariel Arathorniel, we, the Council of Gondor and her Steward, do find you to be speaking truthfully and faithfully.  My lady, please take your seat.”  Mirial moved from the head of the table, to the opposite end.  Leaving the seat traditionally taken by the reigning monarch open for Estel.  Estel rose and took the seat, making sure to bow her head to Lord Elrond and Prince Makalaure.  Because they were her much elder direct kinsmen, she was able to get away with it and follow Eldar tradition.  Estel was very much a daughter of the line of Feanaro, a bit of a rebel with a devotion to family that could not be shaken.  She was also a very passionate woman, which was par for the course as far as the lines of the Deep Elves were concerned.  The Noldor were known as much for their craft as they were for their passion and emotions. 

The meeting, from there was fairly straightforward.  The business discussed was related to confirming or not confirming Estel and whether there should be a coronation. 

Eventually, the council wound down and Estel called for the meeting to close.  She was exhausted, and needed time to process.  There was also the security concerns to consider as well.  She had no desire to discuss military matters with outsiders in the room. 

Once all of the councilors were gone, Estel’s posture completely changed, and her exhaustion became obvious.  “Thank you, all of you.  I know this wasn’t the plan, but since when have those worked for any of us?”

“You will make a fine Queen, and together the pair of you are unstoppable.  You will be fine, titta quen.” Elrond reassured his daughter.   She smiled gratefully at him and stood up.  The rest of the room did as well, and they went their separate ways.  Now all she had to worry about would be ruling a Realm that hadn’t had a monarch since the middle of the Third Age over six thousand years ago.  Should be a breeze…or not.


End file.
